Sugar, We're Going Down
by lass-that-is-gone
Summary: Boruto sees Sarada in a different light during the Winter Festival. Congratulations SS/NH fans!


"It's itchy, mom." Complained Boruto as he tried to reach into the inside of his collar to scratch the base of his neck. "Why can't I just wear my uniform?"

His mother beamed even more, took his hand in hers and smoothed out his collar again. "But you look very dashing in this yukata, baby."

Boruto smiled shyly, his cheeks reddening at his mother's compliment. "But mom_,_it's so uncomfortable!"

The corners of his mother's lips turned down, and she averted her eyes to the floor. "Oh. I am sorry, baby, it's just…mama spent quite a lot of time trying to choose that for I-I understand if—"

_Oh kami…_His mother used _the_ technique again, and it was as effective as ever. The sad look on her face was just too heartbreaking, that Boruto had no other choice but to humour her. "All right, mom, I am sorry. I'll wear it."

She smiled and clapped her hands in delight. She was upbeat again. "Perfect! I am sure you'll be the most handsome boy in the entire festival, baby."

He wanted to complain again, about her still calling him 'baby' even at his age, but opted to just kiss her cheek and bid her good bye. His parents would be meeting up later to lead the lighting of fireworks from the balcony of the Hokage tower, while his sister was still having her hair done. He shook his head. _Girls…_ They are extremely complicated creatures, and now even Himawari is a complicated creature too. Sometimes he'd miss the sweet and extremely cute baby sister he had.

Boruto spotted Shikadai and Inojin in front of the Yamanaka FLOWER SHOP, both clad in their clan colours. The former was scowling, while the latter was doodling on a sketchbook.

"Are you guys waiting for Chouchou?" Boruto asked.

"Aa." Shikadai answered.

He remembered Himawari and his mother and hell, every female he knew. "What is taking her so long? Why do women spend so much time painting their faces, fixing their hair; they look the same!"

"Well, according to my father—"

"Your dad isn't to be trusted when it comes to psychoanalysis, Inojin." Shikadai interrupted.

"Psycho-what?" Both blondes asked in confusion.

Shikadai just shook his head. He spotted a familiar face approaching them from their left. "Boruto, look, someone's with your sister."

Shikadai could've sworn that steam came out from the Uzumaki's nostrils when he saw them. It was a well-known fact that Uzumaki men are extremely protective of their female family members.

"Oh, I remember that guy." Inojin remarked. "He bought a dozen pink roses from the shop a while ago. He's the son of a mercha—"

"I don't care if he's the son of the INVENTOR of ramen! He cannot touch my sister or stay within a yard from her!"

As if on cue, the guy procured the bouquet of pretty pink roses and offered it to Himawari, who was giggling as she accepted.

"The fuck? She's giggling! She doesn't even like roses! That's it, I am teaching that douche a lesson!" Shikadai and Injoin grabbed Boruto by the arm and held him back before the blonde can cause a scene. "Let me go!"

"Quit it, Boruto, she can handle herself." The Nara reprimanded, tightening his hold on his struggling friend.

"She's _thirteen!_What does she know about _dating_!"

"Apparently, more than you do." Inojin deadpanned. Boruto growled and was on the verge of using a jutsu when a voice interrupted behind them.

"What is going on?"

Three heads whipped back, and aside from the whiplash, the three of them felt their jaws drop.

If it weren't for Chouchou's distinguished dark tan and Sarada's endearingly wide forehead, the boys would've never recognized them. The curvy Akimichi had her hair down, combed straight as rain and hanging past her shoulders. A jewelled barrette, the same sage green as her yukata, pinned her bangs to the side. The Uchiha, on the other hand, had her hair in an updo decorated with a cherry blossom kanzashi. For some reason, her glasses were absent that night, but she was flushing as pink as her clothing.

"Wow, you guys are—Wow!" Boruto exclaimed, still shocked.

"Told 'ya," Chouhou smirked at the flustered Sarada.

"The two of you look very lovely." Inonjin complimented. "Although your forehead looks wider without your glasses on, Sarada-chan."

Chouchou grabbed her teammates before blood was shed. "We'll be getting some dango now. You look damn fine, Sara. Right, Boruto?" She winked.

Boruto's face turned crimson, feeling wobbly at the sudden rush of blood to his cheeks. Sarada still stood scowling beside him, muttering about the murder of a certain Yamanaka.

The rapid pounding of his heart seemed so loud, but the noise of the festival crowd drowned it out for Sarada's ears. He had never seen her so beautiful indeed—dark eyes glassy and fierce, cheeks reddening from anger and embarrassment, teeth grinding together and fists clenching. It was never the yukata, the kanzashi or the lack of glasses. It was her spirit, her passion that always demanded his attention. She really doesn't need any embellishments. Sarada. Beautiful.

"What did you say?" He heard her ask. His throat closed up in surprise and embarrassment. _She heard!_

"Oi," Sarada tugged at his sleeve. "What was that?"

"N-Nothing."

"You said something."

"I-I did not!"

"Yes, you did."

"You're imagining it."

Sarada pouted. And then smirked. "Hm, you said something about my forehead—"

"NO! I said 'you're beautiful!'"

Sarada's eyes widened, thoroughly surprised and flattered. "T-Thank you…"

Boruto grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You really are beautiful, Sarada. I—"

There was suddenly a sound of a thousand chirping birds and an uncomfortable prickle at the back of his neck.

"I dare you to repeat that."

"Dad!"

**-End-**

—-

_**A/N: Awww! They are just too cute, I had to write something about them. Boruto being the dutiful onii-san and being all flustered because of Sarada. Kawaii! Omg. Still can't believe that OTPs fondued. Ugh. Also, I just had to add a papasuke at the end. For obvious reasons.**_


End file.
